


if you just let me follow you down

by janie_tangerine



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode Tag, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-19
Updated: 2012-09-19
Packaged: 2017-11-14 14:59:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/516590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>wherein Alaric takes matters into own his hands regarding Damon's situation, or at least he tries. (Tag for 2x21, written back when it aired.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	if you just let me follow you down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ozmissage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozmissage/gifts).



> originally written for a request on a drabble meme asking for badass!Alaric - obviously it isn't a drabble, but that episode aired the day I posted that meme, so it ended up being a coda, too. Title from Bob Dylan. I own nothing (and this has been thoroughly invalidated by canon by now).

Stefan hasn’t even finished talking when Alaric asks the question.

“Where is he?”

“In the cellar. He went on his own – he said he wasn’t going to risk –”

“I’m coming,” Alaric says before snapping the cellphone shut.

He’ll argue with Stefan when he gets there. And when they do he’ll make sure that he’ll have his way – he’s still not over having been trapped inside that house while Jenna died, and he isn’t going to sit this one out _again_.

\--

Stefan, not surprisingly, is at the front door, and not looking like he’ll move and leave the entrance free anytime soon.

“Listen,” he starts, “I don’t know what you’re planning to do here –”

“I’m planning to help here.”

“I’m afraid that you can’t. You weren’t around when it was Rose, but –”

“Stefan, has this fact that Klaus possessed me convinced you all that I can’t take care of myself?”

Stefan raises an eyebrow at that, saying that yes, that’s exactly what he means.

Fine.

“Well, Klaus possessed me only because Isobel tricked me into letting my guard down. At any given moment, that wouldn’t have happened. I killed vampires for years before arriving here, and I’d just like you to remember that when _you_ got captured a while ago, the cavalry was made of your brother _and_ me. I’m not helpless, and you probably should be finding a cure instead of hoping he doesn’t break any locks while raging, so just do me a favor and let me in.”

Stefan opens his mouth, then closes it, then stares at Alaric some more, then nods at him and moves, enough that Alaric can get in.

“You probably have a point. And – well, sorry for the both of them stopping you. I can’t blame them though.”

“I guess I can’t either,” Alaric answers, because he isn’t so stupid not to see that it was the most rational thing to do.

Still, it just hurts that they thought he could be a liability. But he’ll get over it.

“So, before I go down, are we at square one or at least there’s _something_ one can do meanwhile?”

“Elena and Bonnie are working on finding a spell, but for now they haven’t called back. Last time – well, from what I remember, when it happened to Rose, she came to herself again after killing someone while being out of control. It might have been that she could drink some blood – I have no idea though. Maybe it always works like that and you’re back to yourself when in the final stage.”

“So you think that if he feeds he might buy more time?”

“It could be, but that’s my assumption. And it’s not like we can try it – it isn’t a given that he’d stop himself before killing someone, and I haven’t had much time to steal from the local blood bank lately.”

Alaric nods, noticing the dark circles under Stefan’s eyes – strange, considering that vampires don’t sleep.

“I have this under control,” Alaric says, “you can go if you want to.”

Alaric can see him itching – he’d probably feel better searching for a cure rather than staying holed up in here.

“Are you sure?”

“Stefan, I can take fucking care of myself.”

Stefan has the grace to acknowledge that at least – he takes his jacket from a chair, then gets out of the house.

Alaric would really like to go downstairs right now, but he has things to do first.

\--

When he’s done and has all he needs for the moment, he walks down to the cellar, making sure that he’s noisy enough; he hears a rustle coming from behind the steel door and takes out of his pocket the keys that Stefan had left on the dining room table.

“Damon?” he asks.

“What the hell are you doing here?” comes from inside the room. It doesn’t have much venom or spite in it – Damon sounds merely defeated.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Alaric asks, and takes a look from the peephole. Damon looks horrible – his skin is clammy and he’s obviously sweating more than anyone who’s dead should, and he’s paler than usual. His left hand shakes as he holds his elbow – scratch it, he looks miserable.

“Trying to kill yourself? Go away, Ric. You don’t need to be here.”

Alaric can hear the _you don’t need to see me like this_ that comes unsaid, but it’s nothing he hadn’t expected.

“Your brother thinks that drinking more blood would give you more time. Before you go mad, I guess.”

“Yeah, go find me a blood bank, would you?”

“Catch,” Alaric says, and tosses a bottle that used to contain beer through the peephole – there isn’t beer in it anymore. Damon still has good reflexes – he does catch it. And his eyes widen as soon as he sees what’s inside. Thankfully the cap has stuck after Alaric put it back in its place.

“What did you –”

“I cut my arm and put it over that. And it took me half an hour to get it half-filled, so you’d better not waste that.”

“Aren’t you on vervaine?”

“Haven’t been for the last five days. Mostly because after Klaus left, I didn’t exactly have time to get back on it. So, are you going to drink that or not?”

Damon doesn’t even answer – he tears away the cap and drinks the entire thing in one go, his cheeks flushing, his hands shaking, and Alaric should really just go and be afraid like any sane person would, but Damon is his goddamn friend, Alaric is apparently Damon’s only friend still, and he’s not about to leave when he still hasn’t come to terms with Jenna being gone.

It looks like Stefan wasn’t too wrong about this – as soon as Damon is done, his hands start shaking less and the flush in his cheeks doesn’t go totally away.

“Feel better?”

“Sort of,” Damon admits, and then Alaric takes a breath and opens the door. Then he closes it as soon as he’s in and bolts it.

“Are you _insane_?” Damon says, pushing himself against the wall like he can get away from where Alaric is – and he looks positively scared right now. Though he’s also looking at Alaric like he’s being an idiot, and that’s enough to make Alaric feel more at ease. If he gets that look, then Damon is definitely still himself.

“Maybe, but now you listen to me. How are you feeling?”

“Better, but it won’t last that –”

“Good. Then as soon as you start feeling worse than that, you tell me and I’m taking this jacket off, opening that cut again, letting you have some though not too much, and we’re going to do that until your brother comes back. When I say _start feeling worse_ , I mean as soon as it happens and when you’re still enough together that you won’t try to eat me.”

Damon still stares at him, eyes wide, like he isn’t getting why would Alaric do this.

“And we do it until I can stand on my feet. Are we clear?”

“You can’t –”

Alaric huffs and takes out of his bag the stake he had brought with him. He might be reckless, but he isn’t stupid.

“If I see that you’re being out of control, I know how to defend myself. And I have some vervaine on me as well, though I won’t go and tell you where exactly. And if it really gets that bad don’t worry, I can get out of this room without letting you outside as well.”

Damon is looking at him with almost feverish eyes, but not the incoherent kind of feverish – rather, the overwhelmed kind of feverish. Alaric stands up and carefully moves forward, sitting again on the same side of the wall. Damon stays backed against the corner, Alaric the only thing between him and the door. Alaric tries to smile as reassuringly as it gets, but he thinks it didn’t really work – they both know that the plan is shaky at best and that there’s only so much blood Alaric can spare.

“I really didn’t want you to see me like this,” Damon says then, shrugging, but it sounds honest. And well, Alaric figures that if you think you’re dying, then you can afford honesty.

“Why is everyone mistaking me for a damsel in distress? Just because I was possessed by the most powerful vampire to ever exist, which I guess would have been a problem for pretty much all of you? I have a better stomach than you think,” Alaric says, and Damon lets out what sounds like an aborted laugh. More of a snort, maybe, but say what you want – he’s actually looking less miserable than before. Score one.

“Sorry if we didn’t want to risk your life, mister damsel in distress,” Damon says, but as he says it, his muscles start to lose tension and he moves a bit away from the wall. “Next time you see Bonnie, you can tell her from me that you should always go along.”

“You aren’t dead yet, just so you know.”

“Looks to me like that’s not going to last.”

Alaric takes back all the times he has wished Damon could be straight all the time – he’s being completely straight now, and it’s downright terrifying because it’s just _not_ Damon. Hell, Damon is supposed to say stupid things and have stupid plans and Alaric is supposed to smack sense into him and back him up anyway so that he’s sure things don’t get out of control, and then they’re supposed to have drinks together. Not _this_.

“I had pegged you for someone a lot harder to kill,” Alaric comments. “And anyway, I had to stand back when Jenna died, and I’d have rather been there anyway. If you have to, then I’m staying.”

“You can’t want to watch me die.”

“I _don’t_ want to watch you die, but you know what I think?”

“Enlighten me.”

“There aren’t many people that I know who deserve to die alone, and you aren’t one of them. And you don’t need to keep a distance – first wrong move you make, I’m staking you without killing you.”

“You’re so good at lightening one’s mood,” Damon says, but then he uncurls from his position and slides towards Alaric slowly enough that it seems like he’s moving in slow motion. This until they’re sitting close to each other – and Alaric holds his breath as Damon shifts again and his head touches Alaric’s shoulder. But he’s still holding himself still and the contact is at a minimum – well, Alaric thinks, he got this far, he can go the whole way.

“That’s okay, you know.”

Damon’s frame shakes, once, and then it’s not just a question of barely touching – Damon’s head burrows into Alaric’s shoulder rather than just resting on it, and Alaric does realize how dangerous the position is, but he has the stake handy and the vervaine is in his jacket’s pocket – a wrong movement and he could throw it on Damon’s face fast enough not to cause too much damage for either of them. He keeps his right arm free, but his left moves so that it’s around Damon’s shoulder, this while Damon keeps on shaking slightly against him.

“Are you sure you’re fine?”

“If I need any more I’ll tell you,” Damon says, and it’s barely audible, but it’s still sincere enough to believe that he’s saying the truth.

There’s silence for maybe a minute, and then Damon breaks it. “You know what, it’s better that it’s you here. You _would_ kill me if you saw that there wasn’t anything left to do. I’m not sure Stefan would. And by the way, if it looks like there’s the need, do it.”

“I never said I was an idiot,” Alaric answers, except that he isn’t so sure that he would be able to do it after all, and –

He can barely realize that Damon has moved his head slightly and kissed him – it’s over in a matter of seconds. It wasn’t even a proper kiss, just lips against lips, and Alaric can’t help looking at Damon questioningly.

“Well, I went and asked Elena to forgive me before locking myself in because I didn’t want to die with that looming over my head. And well, you’re around and I figured that I couldn’t die without another item in my fucking bucket list,” Damon answers, his eyes staring at the ground even if he hasn’t moved away completely. And – well. There are a lot of things Alaric could say about that, not last that he buried Jenna yesterday and they hadn’t even properly made up, but as things are, Alaric is just slowing down the inevitable here. Not to mention that he has thought about the fact that friends wasn’t exactly fitting to describe him and Damon – there’s a tension between them all-the-time which isn’t the friendly kind, not that either of them has ever acted on it. He can’t go and say no just _now_. Not only because while Damon is what he is, Alaric has this idea that he’s been told _no_ enough times in his stupid century and a half of not-living and that’s not the last thing he deserves to hear.

But mostly because, and that’s when Alaric realized how exactly screwed the whole situation is, he doesn’t want to say no.

“Fine,” he says, not trusting himself to get through an entire sentence. And then Damon moves up, and Alaric leans down, and then there’s a proper kiss, lips moving against lips, not much tongue but enough that it leaves Alaric pleasurably breathless when they part. His lips linger against Damon’s for a handful of seconds, leaning down to place another kiss at the corner of Damon’s mouth, and then it’s over and Damon’s head is on his shoulder again.

“Say it, if you need blood,” Alaric says again, failing to find a more meaningful thing to say.

“I will,” Damon answers, his voice still low and still sounding more defeated than anything else, and Alaric would kill to hear some sarcasm that no one asked for instead of simple answers, but that’ll do for now.

He tries hard not to think about the very real chance that he’ll have to use that stake and about the very real chance that he might not be able to go through with it, and buries his hand in the hair at the back of Damon’s head instead. The hand that Damon has on his shoulder grips just slightly tighter, and Alaric can’t help thinking that however this ends, he’s glad he’s not anywhere else.

End.


End file.
